Rain
by Viva-taquitos
Summary: Wicked. Book verse. Rainy days bring the blues, or in this case, the greens. What's a trapped witch to do on a rainy day? Oneshot.


Author's Notes: Hola, everybody. This is, basically, my first public post ever, so be nice, okay? Before reading, although you are probably not paying attention to this anyway, I wanna thank Lindsay (NancyStageRat) for her continual help and whipping in order to get this little thing here online. But enough small talk, I've practically said my Oscar speech already. On with the show!

Rain. A sanctuary to one. A prison to another.

Rainy days were always dull in Kiamo Ko. The mistress of the house was always sulking about, lost in past experiences and memories. Her cult-like sisters plagued every room of the castle, cleaning and socializing, trying to find things to put their restless minds at ease. Even the children's usually bright spirits seemed dampened…

…But not quite.

Through the sheets of rain, four figures could be seen. The heirs to the prince of the Vinkus transformed into wild beasts as they were finally freed from the cold stones of the fortress. They tackled one another, jumped, ran, laughed as if it was their first time seeing daylight, of course, if daylight could be seen. Nevertheless, they continued their journey through the mud and grass, a bit annoyed by the wetness but more grateful to get away from the insanity of their home.

A tower emerged above the meadows. It wasn't smothered in fog, but it wasn't quite clear to the unaided eye either. While the little beasts entertained themselves, someone was watching their every action from the uppermost window of the fortress. Auntie Witch stood hunched over the pane, annoyed at herself for not doing anything quite as productive. The dampness seeped through every nook and cranny of her haven, giving her a numbing headache that seemed to spread throughout her unusual emerald body. Her work-a-holic pace had temporarily abandoned her; the little patience she had was thinning. Everything pestered her. Everything. The sisters, brooding Sarima, she just wanted them to go away, leave her _alone._

What was she doing here again? Her purpose? She should have stayed were she was, at the mauntery, where she at least had a somewhat small life. Though only the status of maybe a maid, she was always busy with some sort of labor, whether it was feeding the crazed elders or painstakingly scrubbing floors, all the while making sure her hands never dipped themselves into a bucket of water. It kept her busy. It took her mind off the major flaws in her life. It gave her an eerie peace she couldn't find anywhere else. Therefore, shouldn't she be back there now? Becoming once again Sister Aelphaba, where her purpose was only to serve? It would be better then haunting this insane asylum. She just needed to pack a few things, find a caravan willing for the journey, notify Sarima of her decision…

…Sarima.

_…Fiyero…_

A quick gasp escaped a jade mouth, a little unnerved her mind had wandered so. No. It wasn't the right time to leave. Not yet. She _did_ have a reason to be in this damned, makeshift kingdom. Not wanting her emotions to take over completely, she once again found herself staring out the high tower window.

The children were thoroughly engrossed in a game of mud wrestling. The rain had not yet ceased, but the Witch's keen eyes could see perfectly through the dingy atmosphere. Nor's girly form was standing to the side, probably lamenting about how she couldn't wrestle the boys in the first place. Irji's and Manek's figures were fighting a fidgeting Liir to the ground, the helpless boy's arms and legs flailing like a hooked bass. The Witch frowned at this. The boy, although it numbed her to admit it, was nothing like his once living father. Neither did he share any characteristics of his mother. Blonde, pale, fat, weak; it was as if Liir was the anti-child of two misfit parents. Damn the Unnamed God, if one truly existed. Could he not have been at least born _green_? Purple? Blue? _Something_ that marked who he was? Not even an allergy to water. What a pity. _For both of us_, she thought dully. He would never become his father; she couldn't even create a decent child. Still glancing out the window, she now saw Liir, soaked to the bone, but still smiling despite his defeat. The rain was still coming down in buckets, so the mud that caked his body was being washed away relatively quickly.

How she envied him.

He didn't suffer. He didn't feel both the mental and physical pain…

The jade woman found herself becoming dizzy. She swayed away from the outside world and uncharacteristically flopped on her bed. Her head was pounding, from the wet or the flooding of memories, she knew not which. She rolled on her stomach and buried her face into her ratty pillow and breathed in deeply. Some sort of familiarity laid within this scent…Damn. Why must everything remind her of _him_? Everything in this forsaken Kiamo Ko uttered his name. Even after years, the pain still stabbed her, the wounds still bled, but today, the injuries opened unlike they ever did before.

She can remember every single detail, the time, the place, the feelings. The first day he saw her, in the chapel of Saint Glinda, years after she abandoned her life at Crage Hall. How could he have remembered her face? Of course, it is difficult to forget a green skinned person, (if she could even be considered _somewhat_ of a person) but where did he get to impulse to actually _talk_ to her? He and she were never that close. There was the group of them, yes, who would be together more often then not, but one was never put above the other. Truthfully, she was kind of glad on the inside to run into one of her old companions, especially after her years of a recluse's life. But the life she had chosen was why she left Shiz in the first place. The Wizard needed to be defeated, no matter what she had to do, who she had to be with…or in this case, who she had to leave. She tried her best to lose him. Her feet had fled, her head had turned, abandoned alleys were taken _just to lose him._ When the thought of a victory had come into view, his blasted foot jammed the door from closing. Damn. Little did she know what she was getting into. Damn. Damn. _Damn._

So she coddled his request. It was _just talking. _Just this once. They reminisced, they conversed, then it was over. Goodbye, mighty Prince of the Vinkus. Go back home to your land, your family, your castle. Go back to debating with politicians, attending the opera, your royal life. Just don't come here again.

_But he did come back, didn't he, Elphaba?_

Of course, how could she be so stupid? He returned, more then once, winning her heart over little by little. Every meeting she discovered something new. The way his jungle hair fell upon his shoulders, how his eyes sparkled when he laugh, how each blue diamond tattoo complemented every angle of his face. She was falling for him. After all this time, she was finally falling for him._ No, no, no, don't do this. He has a family, a home, a life. Yours is already ruined. Don't curse someone else's._

But how could she resist?

She can see herself laying in the moonlight, her body looped around her lover's. She can still feel his hands exploring her, his soft lips caressing her neck, his warm breath against her cool skin. She loved him. She never loved anyone as much as he in her entire life. Together, she felt wanted, like she was worth something. Once she questioned whether or not she was merely a playmate, yet she quickly brushed the thought off. What did it matter now? Months into an affair, there was no turning back. Even if she really was just once of his toys, she at least had someone to hold at night, someone who seemed to love her of for who she truly was and not for the color on the outside. For once, she was truly happy. Everything was going smoothly. Maybe, just maybe, things will work out.

Unfortunately, all good experiences must end.

"No…"

The Witch moaned once, then shot up quickly. She was shaking, violently. Just like the nights so long ago, when she would curl up against his diamond chest and whimper, his arms secured around her tiny frame. She wasn't worth him. He deserved better. So much better. He didn't deserve a secluded, near-homeless person with a secret underground life. He didn't deserve to be separated from his children for so long. He didn't deserve someone who _led him to his death._

A sudden knock on the door snapped the green one out of her trance. "Auntie Witch, do come down now, dearie, you've been up there the whole afternoon. Dinner will soon be served in the dining hall. We do hope you see you join us!"

Elphaba stood up from her position, but instead of leaving the room she once again proceeded to the window. The rain had slowed to a quiet drizzle, but the children were still enjoying themselves outside. She laid a warm hand on the cool pane and pressed her forehead against the glass so she could get a better view. Her damned son was still outside, still losing at wrestling, but oblivious to what was his past. Liir was only a fragment of a romance that once was, although even he was distant and unknown. There was no one left for her to hold or to lean on. He had abandoned her. He dissolved like the fog lingering outside. Her hand started to burn from the condensation built up by the window, so she peeled it off quickly. Thin nail etchings marked where her fingers were.

She descended the stairs, this time known as Auntie Witch. Dinner was not a favored moment in Kiamo Ko. She learned to deal with her own demons. Others she was not so fortunate with.

_So this is another result of me loving you? _she thought bitterly. Her thoughts were shattered by the sudden din caused by four stampeding monsters coming in from a day's play. Each one passed her as they went by…first Manek, then Irji, next Nor, and…of course. Liir was the last one, he'll forever be the last one. The young, husky boy knocked into Elphaba as he went by, causing his rear to hit the floor and his wet slop to become one with her left arm. Almost instantly, the dampness seeped into the thin cloth, making the flesh underneath twinge with pain, yet the woman hardly took notice of it. The boy stood up quickly, clearly shaken by his actions. "Sorry," he muttered. He hesitantly looked up for a few moments, his eyes locked with his mothers.

They were a brilliant shade of blue, the same blue that colored those diamond tattoos so long ago.

Perhaps he didn't abandon her after all.


End file.
